Nightmares
by Shezzi
Summary: Parker never takes drugs, and she never slept in the office. Crazy talk, crazy actions, teaching a kid to pick locks, any of that was okay, but sleeping in the office was her one big no-no. Eliot was about to discover why. Fluffy one shot, pre P/E


A/N It has come to my attention that this story has been plagiarised and posted on another site by an author of the name of Ebby-Chan. I just want to warn everyone to watch out for this person who seems to be hitting a lot of different fanfic authors – and he/she doesn't even plagiarise well.

Parker never takes drugs, and she never slept in the office. Crazy talk, crazy actions, teaching a kid to pick locks, any of that was okay, but sleeping in the office was her one big no-no. Eliot was about to discover why.

A/N: Just a fluffy one-shot I thought you lot might enjoy. I am in no way profiting from my use of the Leverage universe, which does not belong to me. Thanks for reading, please review! love xx Shezzi

Eliot laid the injured thief on the couch, sighing, and covered her with a blanket.

"How's she doing?" asked Nate, glancing down at her.

"I gave her some morphine, not that she really wanted it. She'll be out for a while," Eliot told him.

"Hmmm," Sophie stood behind the couch, looking down at the tiny blond. "You know, I just realized that I have never seen Parker asleep? Not once. Not when we're traveling, not even here around the office, and we've all done that on long jobs. She just…doesn't, and I hadn't realized it until now."

"Hmmm…interesting," Nate commented as he made his way toward his own office, Sophie following close behind.

"I'll have something ready to eat in about an hour if you're hungry," Eliot called softly after them, and they waved back in acknowledgement.

Eliot moved into the kitchen, where he could still keep an eye on Parker asleep on the couch, and started making dinner.

It was several hours later when Eliot waved the rest of the team quietly out of the offices.

"She's asleep, and I'm not going to move her, but I'm not leaving her alone, either. We'll be fine." He shooed the other three out of the offices. He locked the door behind them, then slipped into his office and grabbed a couple of blankets, leaving his boots and plaid work shirt behind, emerging in socks, jeans and a t-shirt.

Slipping back into the lounge, he tucked another blanket around Parker, who still hadn't moved, then sat down in the recliner and popped up the leg rest, pulling the other blanket up over himself.

He had to admit to a certain level of exhaustion himself. They had gone from one job to the next to the next in rapid succession, and he was fairly sure that Parker being exhausted had contributed to her injuries. It wasn't that she had done anything wrong, the air duct had just given way, but he was fairly sure that if Parker had been well rested she could have gotten out of the situation uninjured. Instead, she had several cracked ribs and a sprained ankle and knee.

He sighed as he watched her, pulling the blanket up around his shoulders, and fell asleep.

He was awoken some time later by a scream, a cry of pure terror. He started upright, fully alert as soon as he was awake, and scanned the room. Seeing no immediate danger, his gaze fell on Parker, whose head was tossing from side to side as she whimpered in her sleep, before her mouth opened and she screamed once more, the sound cutting through him like a knife.

He was off the recliner and kneeling next to her before he'd even really thought about moving.

"Parker? Darlin', wake up," he tapped her cheek gently.

She came to with a fist flying at his face, and ended up in a whimpering pile on the floor as her ribs and leg reacted to her sudden movement.

Eliot grabbed her shoulder, but she recoiled from him, striking out blindly.

"Parker! Parker, you're safe. It's Eliot, you're safe."

"Eliot?" she slumped down on the floor and her head turned towards him. "What are you doing…where am I?"

"At the office, darlin'. Come on, let's get you back up on the couch." So saying, he gently scooped her off the floor and back onto her makeshift bed, pulling the blankets up around her.

"You gave me something, didn't you?" she demanded, looking hard at him.

"Morphine," he replied succinctly.

"I don't like drugs," she scowled at him. She shuddered. "I fall asleep places where I don't feel safe, and I can't wake myself up."

Realising what she was, and wasn't, saying, Eliot felt a wave of guilt. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, knowing that no amount of apologizing was really going to help.

Her lips quirked up in a small, humourless smile as she met his eyes. "You know how you're always saying that I'm not quite right? There are many and plentiful reasons why you aren't wrong to say that. Any number of those reasons enjoy the opportunity to revisit me every time I close my eyes. Normally I can wake myself up before I start screaming, it's normally only when I'm drugged but…" her voice trailed off. "Lets just say that there's a reason why I put soundproofing into my safe-houses."

Eliot swallowed, unsure of what to say, but before he could say anything, Parker was pushing herself up on the couch. "I need to go," she said, trying to stand, but falling back with a pained hiss when her leg refused to support her.

"You aren't going anywhere, Parker. You can't even stand, let alone drive. Nate's picking you up a pair of crutches on his way back tomorrow, and I'll take you home once you've got them."

Parker scowled, lying back against the cushion that she was using as a pillow. "Well, then, what are we gonna do until then?" she asked.

"You could just try getting some rest," he suggested gently. "You really do need it."

Parker's head was shaking as soon as he started speaking. "Nuh-uh," she told him. "I can't sleep anywhere where I don't feel completely safe. It's too exposed here."

"But I'm here, darlin'," he said softly, taking her hand in his. "I'm here, and you know I'd never let anyone hurt you, right? I'll protect you."

"But the monsters aren't just out there," Parker gestured towards the door, her eyelids already starting to droop again. "They're in my head, all the time, every day. The only time they go away is when I'm working, when I'm jumping off a building or cracking a safe. You can't keep me safe from them, Eliot. No one can."

"I'll be right here, and if you start having a nightmare, I'll wake you up, okay?" he told her. "You really do need to sleep, Parker."

Parker swallowed hard. She couldn't tell him about the other thing she had at home, the one thing that gave her comfort in the long, dark hours of the night, the first thing she had ever stolen, even if it was only stealing it back from her bastard of a foster father.

She remembered with pleasure the way she had rigged his drug paraphernalia to explode after she had gotten Bunny back, while he was out drinking and her foster mother had gone to the store for groceries. The memory of that particular explosion had always made her smile, and this time was no exception.

Seeing the crazed smile slip over Parker's face, Eliot swallowed hard, but didn't move away. He already knew she was unarmed and that there were no sharp objects in her immediate vicinity, so he knew she wasn't looking that way because she planned to stab him.

"Go to sleep, Parker," he told her, leaning back against the front of the couch. "I'll be here."

She shifted around on the couch, and at first he thought she was just getting comfortable, but then a hand grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt.

Parker breathed in the scent of Eliot as she took a handful of his t-shirt, substituting it for the long, worn fluffy ear that she normally held in her sleep. The hitter smelt like soap and home cooked food, and just faintly of wood smoke and leather, scents that, over the past months, Parker had slowly come to associate with safety. Since Parker could count on one hand the things that made her feel safe, she still wasn't certain of or completely comfortable with the idea, but she let it go. She was fairly sure that it was the drugs that were still in her system that allowed her mind to do that, she mused, as she drifted off to sleep.

Eliot sat against the couch, listening to Parker's soft, whuffling breathes in his ear, unable to move without risking waking the thief, not that he actually would have after promising her he's stay put, but he still liked to have the option.

She was quiet for maybe thirty minutes, and Eliot was almost starting to drift off in his new position, when she moaned.

"No," she whispered, and Eliot froze. He had never heard the little thief sound so broken. "Please, I'll be good. Please stop."

"Parker," he said softly. "Parker, darlin', it's just a dream. Parker!" turning as far as he could without disrupting her grip, which he now discovered included some of his hair as well as his shirt, he cupped her cheek in his hand, surprised to feel moisture…she was crying? **Parker **was crying? "Come on, Parker, wakey wakey," he patted her cheek gently.

She stirred under his hand, whimpering once more before her eyes opened. When she looked over at him this time, he knew that he had never seen her look this broken. They all knew Parker was broken, but normally it wasn't physically obvious. Mentally and emotionally the woman-child was all over the place, not knowing the right things to say or do, but it rarely showed up in a physical way.

Now as he met her wet, fear filled eyes, Eliot saw, and it hurt. "Shh, darlin', I've got ya," he whispered, brushing his thumb under her eye to wipe away a tear. Her eyelids fluttered closed at his touch, and more tears squeezed out and slid down her cheeks into her hair.

She swallowed hard, turning her face away slightly, and when she looked back at him her expression was as composed as it ever got. "Water?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

"Just a second, darlin'," he replied, standing as she relinquished her grip on his shirt. He grabbed a bottle from the fridge and was back beside her almost before she was fully sure he had moved. He helped her sit up, moving to sit behind her on the couch so she could lean on him and not have to move her injured leg, and opened the sealed bottle before handing it over.

Parker took the water bottle in two hands and sipped, trying to center herself. The drugs and her injuries were making it more difficult than usual to clear the miasma of memory and nightmare from her mind, to allow her to communicate with Eliot. So she concentrated on the water, taking a sip, allowing it to slide smoothly down her throat, soothing the parched tissues. "Thanks," she told Eliot, feeling the drugs start to drag her under again as he took the bottle and recapped it, and she fought, not wanting to go back into the nightmares.

Eliot, seeing the struggle on her face, eased her down so that her head was pillowed in his lap. "I've got ya, darlin'. Just relax." He carded his fingers through her hair, gently loosening the knots, then started gently rubbing her scalp.

He almost froze when he realized what he was doing, and exactly who he was doing it to, but the thief seemed to be relaxing, and he knew how sore she had to be, despite the (now fading) drugs. He started to hum a song he had written some years ago, a slow, soothing tune, and he watched as her eyelids dipped lower. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading, and he nodded. "I've got ya, darlin'. I'll be right here."

Eliot sat on the couch, Parker's head in his lap, and wondered how he had got to this point without seeing where his relationship with the crazy blond was going. Until tonight, if someone had forced him to categorize it, he would have said it was closest to a sibling style, annoying younger sister, protective older brother. He now realized that he would have, and had been, lying to himself.

When Parker looked at him with those broken eyes, he realized he wanted to find all of her broken pieces and show her how to put herself back together again. He didn't actually think that that was possible, but he certainly intended to never let anyone break her, ever again.

He managed to soothe her through several more nightmares without actually waking her up completely, and while he didn't get any rest, he didn't actually mind.

When Parker woke early the next morning, her head was still pillowed on Eliot's leg, and he smiled down at her. "How you feeling?"

"Alright. Hungry," she said, thinking about it.

"Alright, darlin', well I think I can do something about that. Let's get you comfortable here, first." He propped her up with a couple of pillows and gave her the TV remote, then moved towards the kitchen. "Any requests?"

"Ummm…Waffles," decided Parker, grinning. "I haven't had waffles since that time in Berlin when I robbed the diamond exchange…" she trailed off, grinning slightly.

"That was you? That was a smooth job," Eliot commented, pulling equipment and ingredients out and laying them out on the bench.

"Thanks," Parker replied, gifting him with one of her quirky smiles. She turned the TV on, flicking through the channels before, with a soft oooh of delight, she settled in to watch a piece about a showing of borrowed Chinese artifacts at the British Museum.

Eliot grinned at her excitement and set about preparing her waffles as fast as he could.

A bare fifteen minutes later, he brought over a tray with jams, cream, a plate piled high with steaming waffles and a pot of tea. "Here ya go, darlin'," he sat down on the chair next to her and quickly loaded up two plates. "What do you want on your waffles?"

"Got any peanut butter?" asked Parker, looking over his selection of homemade jams with a jaundiced eye.

"Peanut…butter. Of course." Swallowing hard at the rather disgusting thought, Eliot forced himself not to argue, instead fetching the peanut butter from the kitchen and doing his best to ignore Parker as she smeared it all over her waffles before reaching for the cream, then some of his fresh strawberry jam.

Watching her bite into it, Eliot poured two cups of tea, passing one to Parker as she set the waffle back on her plate, licking the whipped cream off her upper lip.

She sniffed the tea suspiciously, then took a sip. Her eyes widened with delight, she took a larger swallow before setting the cup aside and picking up her waffle once more. "That's really good tea. What's it called?"

"Sereni-tea," he replied, grinning slightly. "Corny, I know. It's from the Oriental Teahouse over on Eighth."

They finished their meal in peace, Eliot finding himself both disgusted and amused by Parker's choice of spreads. Despite himself he had enjoyed the special on the British Museum that she had chosen to watch, and her quiet mumbling about how easy it would be to rob.

The others would be turning up soon, he knew, worried about the little thief. He settled back in his chair, grinning as she mocked the cameraman for his ability to show her every single airduct and security camera in the place without even meaning to. She would be alright now, he knew, and he was going to do his best to ensure she stayed that way in the future, because while he had no idea how, the little thief had stolen his heart.


End file.
